


Giving In

by shame_corner



Category: Mother 3, Super Smash Brothers
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Dubious Consent, Fat fetish, Immobility, M/M, Multi, Open Ending, Other, fat kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 21:31:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18322379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shame_corner/pseuds/shame_corner
Summary: It was easy to give in.





	Giving In

_ Gasp. Shudder. _

 

His breath came out in deep whisps, hot and thick and filling the otherwise stark cold air. It was one of the only sounds he heard on a daily basis; other than his viciously beating heart, occasional groans and grumbles, and the voices of others, it was silence. Complete silence. A silence that had once left him mad with fear and desperation, but a silence he accepted with open arms now. It was the only thing he could do, anyway- accept it.

 

His eyes barely opened and closed, fluttering with each thick cough or shift of his massive body, on the brink of unconsciousness. Lethargy had overtaken his body with each passing day, his slowly limited mobility only making the urge to just lie there and sleep grow. All Lucas ever did was sleep and take whatever was given to him- as long as he wasn't moving and his heart wasn't beating out of his padded chest, he would take it; gladly. 

 

But with his routine of sleep and eat, sleep and eat, nothing but succumb to whatever was keeping him here and just  _ sleep and eat;  _ it was no wonder that his body had drastically changed. Though his eyes could only see the wobbling horizon of his own body for who knows how long, his lack of utter mobility made it very clear how big he had gotten. A stomach which had long ago brushed against the ground, which now spread his legs wide apart and stretched as far as it could go; filled with churning food and suffocating fat. Legs which were buried under sweaty bags of his own flesh, pinning them to the ground uselessly. A chest that was far too large, far too big for a young man like himself. A rumor that was a shelf and a half in itself. He was a mountain of flab, a mountain of fat that he had put upon himself.

 

Lucas would have felt shame long ago. He would of been ashamed of himself- letting himself go, letting himself be bloated to utter uselessness. But through pained breaths and lethargic naps, all he could feel was pleasure. A deep, dark desire to stuff himself further, to keep eating and eating until he suffocated in his own flesh, a desire to feel his heart burst after so much abuse. He wanted this, he told himself.

 

_ “You need this, Lucas.” _

 

A warble, a rocking of his body, leading ripples down the huge, wobbly mound that was his stomach. The most his body could muster was a shift. It was all he could do to stimulate himself, in these moments. Moments like these always lead to what seemed like other voices, voices that urged him to continue. To feel the need. To give in to his primal cravings and to eat himself to death like the useless person he was. At first, he had gone through countless hours of sexual climax after sexual climax. But once he couldn't reach down, all the voices could urge him to do was to wobble and flail. He loved it, so it wasn't a big deal, anyway.

 

_ “You were my last choice, my sweet. Such a handsome young lad, but what a worthless fighter.”  _ The tips of feathers brushed against Lucas's chin. Though his mind still burned with exhaustion, he felt a flash of pain. Of apology. He knew it was forced, that the voice was making him think, but he still felt shame burn through him. Not shame for what he has become, but for shame towards his master. Lucas whined.

 

_ “Do not cry, dear. Though you are of no practical use for my spirits, you are very special indeed. My own personal toy. How does that sound, Lucas?”  _ His face flush, Lucas wheezed in agreement, his body sloshing as he fought helplessly against a fountain of unyielding adipose. He had heard these words many times before- being a toy. Being  _ their toy.  _ It always made him feel good. He was good at his only purpose, he was good at being this. He was good and they  _ praised  _ him for it. He wanted to be this, for  _ them.  _ The echoing voice chuckled.

 

_ “Ah, my Lucas. How you bring me such mortal pleasure. Out of all you useless fighters, you are my favorite. How about I assist my favorite toy in what he does best?”  _ The tips of feathers whisked away from him, and he almost whined in desperation for them to return, if not for something filling his mouth. A hose tip. After he had gotten so large, simply drinking things was he could do without excessive movement. And moving was hard and filled with pain, so he didn't want it.

 

He leaned back into his own fat, shuddering weakly as he began to drink. And drink. And drink. An unknown concoction of  _ something  _ fattening, but it didn't bother the blonde. All he felt was bliss, feeling feathers brush his sweaty hair as he obediently stuffed himself further and further into madness. Into his cycle of torture and dark pleasure. He could feel himself expand with each massive swallow- rolls thickening, hands and feet sinking further into piles of fat. He was only making himself worse off, but he  _ didn't care.  _ All he wanted was to make them happy. To eat, to sleep, to please.

 

All he wanted was to make Galeem want him. It was all he was good for- they told him that.

 

But everything cut short.

 

Though he was still far beyond healthy, though he was still panting and gasping for breath, though he was bigger than a bed, buried in his own warm body- everything else had changed. The feathers in his hair burned away. The kind voice cut off. The white nothingness around him burned and dissipated.

 

Lucas was left in an empty, grimy old room.

 

Lucas felt fear, immediately. After spending weeks and months in a room of silence and bliss, he had grown ignorant to anything else. But now that he was thrown into reality, everything he had come to forgotten was thrust against him. He was scared. He was  _ terrified.  _

 

The sound of footsteps immediately altered him, and Lucas whimpered, sinking further into the massive shield of fat he had. It was  _ all  _ he had. His psychics barely sputtered, he couldn't even stand- all he could do was… take it.

 

“PK Fire!” A familiar yet foreign voice rang through the air, the door to the room swinging open with a bang. All Lucas did was close his eyes, heart pounding, fear and countless pounds making him sweat.

 

“Luc…Lucas?!”


End file.
